


M is for Makeshift

by zebraljb



Series: The Alphabet Cycle [13]
Category: Boondock Saints RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman meets his new neighbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	M is for Makeshift

**Author's Note:**

> A series of shorts based on one-word prompts.
> 
> This universe is continued in the following story, "N is for Nowhere."

M IS FOR MAKESHIFT  
www.dictionary.com definition: Suitable as a temporary or expedient substitute

Norman stood at the gate, biting at his bottom lip. He hated new crowds like this, and wasn’t even sure why he was there.

“Norman!” A heavily made-up woman in her fifties came hurrying over. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Jerry said I should bring this,” he said shyly, holding up the two six-packs of beer. 

“Of course he did.” She rolled her eyes. “That was so sweet of you, though. Why don’t you just bring them over here to the cooler, throw them in the ice, and I’ll introduce you around, okay?”

“Sure, thanks, Barb,” he said with a sigh.

The backyard was filled with chattering people in various states of summer dress. Norman looked down at his black tank top and green army shorts and sighed. “Norm!” Barb’s husband Jerry came over, holding out his hand. “Damn glad you could make it.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Jerry,” Norman said politely. He had only been in the neighborhood for about three weeks, and had met Jerry and his wife at the local supermarket. When they found out that he had moved into the last empty house on their block, they were quick to try and include them in neighborhood activities. He had found excuses out of everything except this barbeque, which seemed innocent enough.

“Lots of young ladies chomping at the bit to meet our new mystery man,” Jerry whispered with a loud laugh. Norman smiled and wished the ground would open up and swallow him. This wasn’t really a good time to point out that he was gay.

“Not now, Jerry,” Barb said, and Norman could have kissed her. “There will be time enough for that later. Introduce him to some of the boys, for heaven’s sake.”

“Grab a beer and a burger, Norman,” Jerry boomed, and Norman hurriedly obeyed, just to keep a low profile. Jerry returned to the group of six or seven men that were huddled around the grill. “Guys, have you met Norman yet? Norman…”

“Reedus,” Norman said quickly.

“Norman Reedus, meet Eric, Dave, Billy, Ian and Sean,” Jerry said, pointing to each in turn.

Norman nodded and shook hands, momentarily freezing when he got to the last man, Sean. He had brown hair tinted gold by the sun, bright blue eyes with smile lines at the corners, and a long sleek body which made Norman itch to run his hands over it. “Hey,” Norman said softly. He wondered if he was imagining things, or if Sean had held his hand slightly longer than anyone else.

“Nice to have some more young meat in the neighborhood,” Sean said with a sunny smile, and Norman blushed. “Sorry…I just mean that you and I are two of three unmarried men on the street, and it gets kinda old, hearing everyone take bets on when we’ll bring home a girl.”

“Unless you bring home girls and we just don’t see it,” the man named Ian said, and the other men laughed long and hard.

“What I do under cloak of night is none of your business,” Sean said with a grin, tilting his head back and draining his beer. Norman said nothing, just took a big bite of his sandwich. “So, Norman, where do you live?”

Norman swallowed his food and almost choked on it. “Two-oh-nine Shamrock.”

Sean’s face lit up into that smile again. “No shit, really? I’m at two-eleven. I can’t believe I’ve never seen you. Of course, I was out of town again recently. I travel a lot for my job.”

“Oh. What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Norman asked.

“I’m a journalist. I’m fortunate enough to do most of my work out of the house, but now and then I actually have to GO somewhere.”

Norman looked around and realized that the other men were talking amongst themselves, almost leaving he and Sean totally alone. “That sounds exciting.”

“Eh,” Sean said with a shrug. “I get to do what I love and get paid for it. How about you?”

“I repair motorcycles,” Norman said. “I had an apartment uptown, but was able to move here…it’s much closer to the shop.”

“Shop?”

“Uh, Hell on Wheels? It’s over on Eighth.”

“Fuck, yeah, I go by that all the time!” Sean exclaimed. “I love the sign…caught my eye right away.”

Norman smiled proudly, thinking of the flaming motorcycle above his door. “I sorta painted that.”

“You’re shitting me.” Sean blinked. “I’m impressed.”

“I paint a bit in my spare time,” Norman explained.

“Wow. You’re a renaissance man, Norman.” Sean’s blue eyes were glued to Norman’s face. “I have an empty wall in my bedroom…maybe you could take care of it.”

The idea of taking care of SEAN in his bedroom floated through Norman’s mind, but he was able to kick it away. “Well, I don’t really paint walls…”

“I meant a picture or something,” Sean said, laughing, and Norman wished he could die.

“Oh, right.”

“Well, listen, if you need anything, you know, feel free to stop over,” Sean said. “I’m usually just there banging away at the computer, and I would welcome the interruption.”

“Okay,” Norman said, nodding. “The same to you. I’m up pretty late most nights.”

“Well, we need to find you a couple of nice girls,” Jerry said, returning to their conversation. “No need for a couple of handsome fellas like yourselves to be sitting around alone at night.”

Sean and Norman exchanged glances, and Norman felt warmed over by the conspiratory mirth he saw in Sean’s eyes. “Well, now we don’t have to, Jerry,” Sean said, clapping the older man on the back. “We can sit around together now.” He motioned with his bottle. “I’m empty. Norman?”

“Yeah, I could use another.” Norman was grateful for the escape route. “Are…are they always like that?” He asked Sean when they were out of earshot.

“You cannot even imagine,” Sean said, rolling his eyes as he dug around in the icy cooler. “It’s like some sort of law here that if you’re married, you must marry off everyone who isn’t. Whether they’re interested or not.” He handed Norman a beer, his chilly fingers brushing against Norman’s. “Are you interested, Norman?” Sean asked.

The question was innocent enough, and Norman decided to take the bait. “In marriage? No, not really.” He raised an eyebrow as he popped the cap on his beer. “You?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” Sean said, laughing out loud, his eyes crinkling. 

 

And that, as the classic movie said, was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Or at least a very good one. Norman didn’t find many reasons to actually go over to Sean’s, but they seemed to run into each other coming and going quite often. Sean was always outside in the yard when Norman got home from the shop, and they would stand in the dewy grass and talk until the sun went down. Norman invited Sean over for pizza a few times, and Sean asked him over once to take a look at his dishwasher, which was on the fritz. Norman hands had always had a love-love relationship with anything that had a motor, engine or wires, but he made sure to take a while in fixing it, just so he could lay on the floor and listen to Sean talk.

What he didn’t see was the way Sean’s blue eyes constantly ran over his body, how Sean was almost caught staring at least four times. And Sean couldn’t help staring. Norman was amazing. He looked like your typical mechanic…there was always grease under his nails, and his jeans were worn and stained. But they fit just right in the thighs and ass, and Sean was reminded of the cliché porn story where the unsuspecting innocent goes to the garage and is ravaged by the man working there. He ignored the fact that it was usually a WOMAN who was ravaged by the mechanic. That didn’t happen in his world.

Of course, in his world, he was usually a bit more forward, and walked right up to Norman and told him how he felt. Sean felt like such a geek compared to Norman, who had traveled the world just because he wanted to. Sean hid behind his computer most of the time, putting a different side of himself into print, a side that made him look and sound a lot more exciting than he really was. Norman was the action photo, and Sean was simply the caption underneath, at least in his mind.

 

One Saturday afternoon, Sean was up on a ladder, cleaning out the rainspout on the side of the house that faced Norman’s. He could hear a radio, and if he turned carefully on the ladder, he could see Norman in the backyard, working on a bike. He knew that Norman had a bike of his own that was constantly in disrepair, for he often saw Norman out until all hours tinkering with it. 

Sean stepped up one more rung, turning carefully and, he hoped, casually. Norman was squatting by the bike, in a pair of torn jeans and a faded blue tee, and Sean could occasionally hear a curse above the music on the radio. He smiled. Norman gave everything he did 110%, and that especially was true when it came to fixing something. He never gave up.

Sean’s eyes were hungry as they ran over Norman. Why the hell couldn’t he just SAY something? Neither of them had come out and said they were interested in men, but Norman had hinted like mad. He probably thought Sean was a mindless fool for not picking up on it, but Sean was just too nervous to take the chance. He leaned slightly, letting go of the ladder with one hand to rub at his forehead. He was an idiot.

“Hey, Sean,” Norman said suddenly. Sean blushed at being caught staring, and raised his hand in greeting. What he forgot was that he was holding on to the ladder with that hand, and he lost his balance, sailing not-too-gracefully into the hedge below. “SEAN!” He heard Norman yell.

Sean landed with a bit of a scraping bounce in the scratchy bush by the ladder. “I don’t fucking believe this,” he hissed, wishing that his life would come to a sudden end, at least before Norman came around the fence.

His wish was not granted, and Norman’s concerned face soon loomed above him. “Sean, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine, except for my extremely bruised and blushing pride,” Sean mumbled. He held out a hand and Norman started to pull him up. “OW!” Sean yelled, and noticed for the first time the immense gash running up the top of his thigh, ending an inch or two below the hem of his gym shorts.

“Whoa, careful there.” Norman did a brief visual inspection of the cut, then pulled off his shirt, wrapping it around Sean’s leg. “Hold that.” Norman took Sean’s hand and placed it on the shirt. Norman put an arm under Sean’s shoulders and hefted up to stand before Sean knew he was moving. “Let’s get you inside. You have first aid supplies or something?”

“Yeah,” Sean said weakly, wishing Norman would just go away and leave him to be a loser in peace. He leaned on Norman and walked in the back door of his house, hoping that blood wasn’t dripping everywhere. “Bathroom.”

Norman helped Sean to the bathroom and deposited him on the edge of the tub, propping Sean’s leg up on the toilet. He rummaged in the large wooden cabinet by the door until he found a bottle of peroxide and a clean cloth. “I don’t see bandages.”

“Guess I’ll just bleed to death then,” Sean replied, laughing a little. Norman raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else. 

Norman took away the t-shirt that was serving as a makeshift bandage and began to clean the wound. “You know...you need to be more careful.”

Sean hissed as the peroxide burned over his skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah...or else find someone to take care of you.” Norman blew on the peroxide, watching it fizz.

Sean swallowed hard as he stared at Norman's pursed lips. “You volunteering for the job?” 

Norman froze, lips still puckered to blow on Sean’s leg. He slowly sat up, his eyes never leaving Sean’s. “Are you…you’re…”

Sean blushed. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…that wasn’t…that wasn’t cool, coming on to you like that. Even though it’s what I’ve been thinking of since I met you…” Sean realized that he was babbling and snapped his mouth shut, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait.” Norman shook his head. “You’ve been wanting to come on to me? For weeks?” He laughed out loud, and Sean turned a darker red. “No, I’m not laughing at you, Sean…fuck. I’ve been wanting to make a move on you…thought you probably weren’t straight…but never thought you’d be interested in someone like ME.”

“Someone like you is exactly what I’m interested in!” Sean almost shouted. “I mean, you…you’re who I’m interested in.”

“Good.” Norman smiled at him. “Because I really like you, too.” He studied Sean for a long moment, then leaned forward to kiss him.

“Fuck!” Sean yelled, and Norman pulled back, realizing that he had been leaning on Sean’s injured leg.

Sean started to giggle through the pain. “Well, guess you’re not the only klutz here,” Norman muttered, and Sean laughed even harder. Norman finished cleaning the wound and pressed the cloth against it. “I have some bandages at the house. I’ll run over and get them. I’ll get you settled somewhere first, though.” He helped Sean stand up, and they stood eye-to-eye. He put a hand on Sean’s neck and gently kissed him.

“You have the best bedside manner I’ve ever seen,” Sean whispered when Norman pulled away. Norman grinned.

“Let’s get you laying down.”

“Seduction already, Mr. Reedus?” Sean said, so giddy he didn’t care if he sounded like an idiot.

Norman helped Sean hobble into the living room. “You cannot even imagine my powers of seduction, Mr. Flanery,” Norman whispered in his ear as he set Sean down on the sofa.

“Hurry back,” Sean moaned, and Norman grinned.

END - M


End file.
